Tiny Little Fractures
by De-Femme
Summary: Chapter 2 Up: ObiWan is a little too imaginative for his own good.
1. Default Chapter

AN: Just so you know, this is my first SW fic, so don't burn me to a crisp just yet. This might turn into a series of Obi centered vignettes, might just stand on this single story, depending on reviews. my original plan was to just post whatever came to mind, so it could be AU's, old Obi-Wan stories, Young Obi Stories, or other random stuff.

Both the series and this first story are titled Tiny Little Fractures,so you'll just have to read it to find out what it's about. I hope you enjoy!

**Tiny Little Fractures**

_Rating_: G

_Summary_: Mace Windu has a duty to perform, one that every Jedi must go through; but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

_Category_: General, but a little Angsty.

_Disclaimer_: George Lucas is cool. I just borowed some of his coolness for a while. Don't sue me.

* * *

It was dawn. 

The Planet Nagaina was one of three planets in the Gachira system; like it's sister planets, it was covered in large bodies of water, scattered islands and land formations. The climate was always warm, though at times the heat from the sun became a little overbearing. Although the system was part of the Galactic Republic, it was far enough away to have been spared by the technology, developing agencies, and overpopulation suffered by those systems closer to the Galaxy's center.

For which Mace Windu's was very thankful.

The waves that crashed gently on the shore were tainted pink, the sand underfoot still cool, not yet heated by the sun's powerful rays. Red and gold light washed over the horizon as the sun seemingly glided across the surface of the water, effortlessly washing away the dark void that had been pierced only by the twin moons over head. Black shadows turned to blue, and the palms swayed overhead in the gentle breeze. The line between the sky and the sea became clearer, and if possible, made the deep, ocean waters' expanse seem even more infinite than before. It was enough to make anyone, even a fully trained, fully educated (if not newly knighted) Jedi Knight, want to sit and watch forever.

Master Yoda and told him about the sunrises here. Mace was pleased to see one for himself, as the ancient master's description, let alone anyone else's, could have no where near done it justice.

He gazed down the beach behind him, past the transport he had arrived on towards the village stationed just offshore. The village hovered over the calm swells of the ocean, rising and falling with the waves, suspended about arms length above the water. Small boats and other watercraft were tied to docks, and lanterns were hung on long cables that crisscrossed in every direction and looked like dancing light-bugs from far away. The buildings were individual structures, some several stories tall, yet all were tied together, forming a close community. As the population grew, more homes would be built and added to the outskirts, developing the settlement further. The people who lived here would be close, and probably saw all of their neighbors as their extended family.

Which would make his job all the more heart wrenching than it already was.

A child, a newborn, barely two month's old, lived in that village. And the baby was force sensitive. Despite Mace's desire to watch the sunrise, gaze at the gentle, almost quaint village before him, he could not. He had a job to do, and it nearly broke his heart.

He began walking towards a small dwelling, almost a shack, where the ferryman resided. He saw a boy, tall and lean with sandy, unmistakable bed-head hair pulling a hover boat down to the water's edge. He saw Mace striding towards him, and stopped, hands resting on his hips as the Jedi approached. He was a fairly young boy, no older than nine, maybe ten cycles, and the clothes he wore were loose fitting and torn off at the knees and shoulders. He wore no shoes, and eyed Mace curiously with bright blue green eyes.

"G'mornin."

Mace bowed. "Good Morning."

The young boy's accent was thick and lilting, but pleasant. He squinted out to sea were the sun had left the horizon's edge and was climbing higher into the sky.

"Did you get to watch the sunrise?" He cocked his head to the side, and then offered mace a squinty smile.

"Yes, I did. It was…beautiful."

The boy nodded thoughtfully, then bit his lower lip, looking down at his toes as he wriggled them in the sand. His brow furrowed, and he spoke quietly, solemnly, an edge of fear and worry in his voice.

"You're…the Jedi man, aren't you."

Mace only nodded, pulling his robes tightly around him and burying his hands in the sleeves.

The boy didn't say anything, only continued to look down at the ground. After a moment of quiet, he spoke.

"Me Mam and Da sent me with the boat," he explained quickly, the words practically spilling out of his mouth. "They said you would be here really early so they let me sleep in the boat house over there. I've never gotten to before, they said I wasn't old enough until now." Mace glance up the shore towards the shack as the boy spoke. "Me Da is the ferryman, but he let me stay overnight to take you because-" the boy faltered in his rapid speech, and Mace could sense the fear and sadness emanating from the boy in waves. The boy looked out to the floating village. "He wanted to say goodbye."

Mace Put a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "I promise, you'll ha-" he was cut off when the boy spoke, in a tone of voice so low he could hardly hear it above the pounding of the waves.

"Why are you taking my baby brother away?"

Mace's stomach clenched; he had been expecting the question to come up sooner or later, but now that it had, he felt he didn't want to answer it. He knelt on one knee in front of the boy, keeping his hand on his shoulder and looking into the eyes filled with confusion.

"Your baby brother has a gift," he explained, trying to justify to himself as well as the boy that what he was doing was right. "He will be trained to be a Jedi, and he will protect and save a lot of star systems, a lot of people."

The boy looked down to the ground. "I hope so."

Mace's stomach churned. He wanted to embrace the boy, tell him everything would be alright, to leave the poor child and this planet, forget the look on this boy's face. But he couldn't. It was his duty, his mission. And he hated himself for it.

"What's your name?" The boy asked finally. Mace offered him a reassuring smile that the boy didn't bother to look up and see.

"Mace Windu." The boy sniffled and wiped his nose with his arm. "What's your name?"

"Tjaden," he swallowed and looked back up, sea colored eyes locking with brown. "Tjaden Kenobi."

* * *

The Kenobi residence was one of the smaller dwellings in the floating fishing colony, which Mace had come to find out was called Toomai. Buldeo and Akela Kenobi had been waiting for him when he had arrived, along with their daughter Ko-Tica, who was far to young to understand why all of the grown ups in the room were so sad. The baby boy was wrapped in a thick knitted blanket, asleep on his mother's lap. 

Mace Windu approached and bowed low, introducing himself, and Buldeo nodded reproachfully. Akela stroked her child's reddish gold wisps of hair away from his face, seemingly oblivious to the Jedi's presence.

"I assume you were contacted by the council," Mace prodded, looking to Buldeo for an answer. The man was tall, obviously strong, and he had a bit of fisherman's stubble growing on his chin. He looked rough and callused, from hard labor in the sun and sand, and his hair was the same color as Tjaden's.

"Yes, yes they told us." He ran his hand through his hair and paced around the room, fiddling with things, seemingly unable to sit down. "We just…" his voice lowered. "We just didn't realize it would be so…soon."

Mace nodded in understanding, at a loss for words. He didn't know what to say to these people. This family, this unit that he was about to tear apart.

"So…wha-" Buldeo's jaw clenched as he struggled to continue. "What do we do now? What will…" his eyes fell on the sleeping bundle, and Mace didn't need to hear the rest of the man's question to know what he wanted to hear.

"He will be taken to the Jedi temple. There he will be taught with other children, children his own age, in the ways of the force. Then," Mace braced himself for what was sure to come next. "Then, if he is chosen as a Padawan learner, he will trained individually by a Jedi knight and will, if he passes the trials, join the order."

Buldeo's forehead furrowed, and he was about to say something when he was cut off by a soft voice.

"_If_ he is chosen?" The room seemed to quiet further as Akela spoke, and the swell of the waves even seemed to lessen.

"Yes, if he is chosen."

Akela's eyes locked with his, and he could see they were awash with unshed tears. "And if he isn't?" Mace inhaled slowly, deciding to tread carefully upon this matter.

"He will be sent to somewhere he can still help others, and use his skills in the force."

"Where?" the question was simple, but filled with pain.

"It's...difficult to say. Some are sent to the Agricorps, some become pilots or mechanics, scientists-"

"But he wont become a Jedi." The silence filled the room once more as both Akela and Buldeo looked at Mace with Hungry eyes.

"No." Mace's voice was barely over a whisper, but it seemed like a thunderclap in his ears. He hastily tried to continue, but was cut off by Akela's quiet but strong, almost desperate voice.

"Please," her jaw clenched and she blinked, fighting off tears. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Don't say anything else." She kissed the small child on the forehead, then raised the bundle towards him. "I-I just-I can't hear it. I don't want to."

Mace stood and she handed him the bundle. The child was waking, and cooed softly as Mace took him in his arms. Buldeo stood beside Akela and held her in his arms, clinging to her like she was the last being in the planet. Mace looked at Akela as she caressed the child's head once more, and knelt when Tjaden carried Ko-Tica over to take one last look at their brother.

Ko-Tica giggled and touched Mace's head, but was quickly silenced by her father, who scooped her up into his arms. Tjaden touched his brother's head and whispered his farewells, misery written across his face. "G'Bye, Obi-Wan."

Mace tried not to, but couldn't help in sharing their pain. For Jedi, there was no emotion. There was no anger, no hate. No sadness, no worry, uncertainty, misery, despair.

So why did it hurt so much?

_End_

Well, I must say that this is one of the sadder things I have written, but I enjoyed it very much. I hope you all enjoyed as much as I did, and, hopefully, if I get enough reviews, I'll write more chapters. Mind you, if I do write anything else, It will probably be more vignettes like this one, and not really follow a particular plot or story line. Note that anything else I might write probably wont be as sad as thing one either.

I was also considering writing stories about other characters as well, not just some Obi-Wan centered Vignettes...then again, thatsounds very appealing to me...hmm, let me know what you think.

If you have any suggestions or requests either on this story, or ideas for futur stories, just let me know. I LOVE feedback...

Defemme


	2. Exploding Ships and Weary Masters

**Title**: Exploding Ships and Weary Masters

by DeFemme

**Summary**: Obi-Wan is lonely, and apparently a little too imaginative for his own good.

Obi-Wan couldn't sleep. He knelt quietly on the floor next to the viewing panel of the Bandoorian Transport, staring out into the vast amounts of stars littering space. He shivered involuntarily and pulled the thin blanket provided by the crew tightly around his small, lean frame, shielding himself from the cold air of the transport. He disliked confined, crowded spaces immensely, but having grown up on Coruscant in the Jedi temple, he had learned to deal with such discomforts.

He yawned, then glanced over his shoulder down the corridor to his master's sleeping quarters. He smiled at the thought. His Master. He had been chosen to be Padawan learner to Qui-Gon Jinn! Bruck Chun would probably throw a fit. Or maybe go insane. He liked the idea of Bruck being hauled away in a restraint jacket… He would probably begin his training as a new Padawan soon, and he couldn't wait to tell Bant and Garren…

He closed his eyes. Force did he miss them. And Reeft, Nadi, all of his age mates. He hadn't seen any of them for what felt like months. Blast, he'd even like to see Bruck, even if it was just to watch get him hauled off to a padded cell.

Still…an odd nagging feeling tugged at his brain and his stomach tightened slightly. What if one of them failed to be chosen by a Jedi Master? He couldn't stand the thought of one of his friends being sent away to be a farmer like he had. He felt a pang in his chest and his throat felt dry. He didn't know what it was; he had never really felt this before, and it worried him. Maybe he was sick. Or dying. Maybe the force was trying to tell him something. Like the ship was gonna blow up. They were going down.

Obi-Wan shook his head violently, smirking at the ridiculous idea. He hadn't let his imagination get away with him like that since he had been in the crèche. Those kind of thoughts were childish. He was eleven for forces sake! He heard a scraping sound and jerked his head towards the far wall of the room, smile faltering slightly. Had that been the engine? No, it was nothing. He was letting his imagination get away with him. His chest tightened a little, his heart quickening slightly. Where was Bant when he needed her? She had always been there when he let his thoughts get out of hand, and would always tell him that it would be alright. But she wasn't here now, and he still couldn't shake the disquieting feeling of emptiness in his stomach. Maybe…

Maybe something was wrong. There was another sudden thump coming from above his head. It didn't sound good. How well built were these transports anyway? He had seen a cable upon boarding that looked slightly worn. And what was that? The noise again. Had the ship always creaked like that? He stood shakily, and decided to go to his masters quarters. Yes, Qui-Gon would know what to do. He paced silently down the hallway, blanket trailing behind him like a phantom and paranoia growing with every step. He wished he was back at the Jedi temple, safe in his room that was so close to Bant's and Garren's.

Whenever any of them had been scared or had trouble sleeping, they would dart across the hall and into one another's rooms for reassurance. But they were so far away now. Would they ever be able to comfort each other like that again? What if they were sent away, and needed him? Or he needed them? There was no way he would be able to be there for them now that he was a Padawan learner. Or if the ship blew up.

And Si Treemba. He had hardly known him for a week and they had become so close. Saying goodbye to the Arconan had been difficult, and thinking back to when they had said their farewells on the loading platform made his stomach clench even tighter.

He wished they were there now. Reeft, Garren, Si Tremba, Bant. The only person that he knew that was nearby was Qui-Gon, and he couldn't go running into his room and wake him up, just because he was scared and lonely. The ship creaked again, and Obi-Wan was sure he felt the hull shudder slightly. He tried to reach out to the force, but the cold of the ship's cabin made him want to pull every thought and feeling inside, as though it would help warm him up. Maybe the ship was leaking, and the cold was from some crack deep in the bowels of the ship that they wouldn't discover until it was too late.

Force, his master would think he was pathetic. That was ridiculous, even for his strange demented mind's standards. Why he would even bother to think about disturbing his master over an idea like that made his feel stupid. Surely other Padawans didn't trouble their masters with things as silly as ships blowing up…

Well, maybe in that case they would.

He cautiously peered into his master's room, and could just make out the large man sleeping uncomfortably, crammed onto an undersized sleep couch. Quietly so as not to wake him, Obi-Wan crept across the room and sat down on the floor in front of his master's sleeping form, unsure of what to do. If he had been back home, he simply would have gone into one of his friends' rooms and crawled into their bed, then fallen asleep. Their presence had always made him feel better, and had always kept the bad dreams away.

Qui-Gon shifted slightly and Obi-Wan froze, his blanket wrapped securely around his body like a cocoon. He was afraid to move, lest he disturb his Master or send the ship into a tailspin. He blinked, and took in a deep calming breath, feeling like the cabin walls were closing in on him. For a brief moment, his years of Jedi training abandoned him and he pulled his knees up to his chest, forcing his eyes to stay open. The ship was not going to blow up without him knowing about it first.

Qui-Gon sensed something. It was just on the edge of his consciousness, a disturbing tremor in his mind. It felt like…he was being watched. He opened his eyes warily, and blinked when he saw a familiar pair of gray-green eyes blinking back.

"Obi-Wan?" He asked, wondering if he was dreaming still. The boy sat huddled in a ball with a blanket wrapped around him tightly, only his eyes and nose exposed through the folds of fabric. He blinked, and Obi-Wan paused before answering.

"Yhm Mhdher?"

"Obi-Wan, what are you doing? Why aren't you asleep in your quarters?"

"Hm hin't whn ha-" Qui-Gon cut him off before he could continue.

"Obi-Wan, I can't hear you."

Obi-Wan pulled the blanket away from his mouth and spoke in a hushed whisper, as though trying to prevent someone from overhearing him. "I think the ship is going to blow up."

Qui-Gon was silent for a moment. "Obi-Wan, why would the ship blow up?"

The boy blinked, then opened his mouth wide to begin what could only be an enthusiastic, highly detailed explanation. Qui-Gon held up a hand, silencing the boy. "Wait, I don't want to know."

"But Ma-"

"Obi-Wan," he cut him off, thoroughly irked by the disturbance in his sleep. "It is very late. The ship is not going to blow up. You have absolutely nothing to be afraid of. Now you need to go to bed."

Obi-Wan's eyes were very round and pathetic looking, and Qui-Gon could tell what was coming even before the boy asked.

"Can I sleep in here?"

Qui-Gon rubbed his temples and closed his eyes wearily. "What is wrong with your quarters? You'll be absolutely fine in them."

He was answered with a small silence, then a faint, "Okay."

He sighed and waited for the soft patter of his Padawan's retreating footsteps, and was slightly perturbed when he heard a sniffle instead. He wearily opened one eye, only to be met with the watering, gray eyes of his Padawan.

"Obi-Wan, what is it now?"

"I don't want to be alone."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes wearily. His Padawan had crumpled into a sniveling mess because he was lonely? It just didn't make sense. The boy had been in space transports many times before, and surely he had been by himself on numerous occasions…then again…

Now that he thought about it, a sudden realization dawned on him. Obi-Wan, like most children raised in the Jedi temple, had always been surrounded by his peers – his surrogate family – and when he had been sent to the Agricultural farms on Bandomeer and that 'family' wasn't there. He had befriended the young Arconan Si Treemba then, almost immediately, and they had been nearly inseperable for the entire duration of the mission. And now, suddenly, Obi-Wan was alone with no one his age to talk to or seek comfort in; he had probably never been without some sort of companion in his life, and now the only one he could seek comfort in was his Master.

He had forgotten what it was like to have such a young Padawan. He sighed and rose off the sleep couch, tossing his pillow to the ground and trying to make the floor as comfortable as possible. The sleep couch had been too small anyways.

The floor wasn't very comfy, and he was sure that he would be very stiff when he woke up the next morning. He motioned to Obi-Wan, who quickly joined him at his side on the floor and curled up into a ball next to him, eyes drooping from exhaustion. Qui-Gon lay flat on his back and breathed deeply, smiling when he heard the soft, slow breathing of his Padawan next to him.

Yes, it was going to take some getting used to, but it was to be expected. He hadn't had a Padawan for so long…there was so much responsibility, so many things to be taught…Yet, it all would be worth it somehow. He could tell it would be whenever the boy smiled, gray eyes shining. That smile could charm a hut – and once he was old enough, probably a few ladies.

Qui-Gon glance at Obi-Wan, still fighting sleep, and reached over and smoothed his hair back from his forehead.

"Good night Obi-Wan."

The boy fought to suppress a yawn, and smiled gratefully. "G'night Master."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and felt a wave of satisfaction sweep over him. He had needed the lonely boy as much as he needed him.

After all, he had been lonely too.


End file.
